VII.

Lila surveyed her hair. Best haircut she'd had in eons. Home could use a stylist like this. The woman looked down her nose at her. She didn't like a Mohawk on a female and her expression showed it. The expression changed when Lila handed her three times the price of the cut and said, "Keep the change." The hairdresser shook her hand.

As Daddy says, "duty before pleasure". Lila left the salon still hungry. Only three left now. But where? She breathed deeply. The school? On Sunday? Noticeable Mohawk or not, no one on the street saw her disappear; but someone was immediately aware of her arrival at school.

The Teacher at her desk frowned, "You're not a student here." That wicked non-smile again.

The Teacher blinked, she could have sworn a woman with a chilling smile was sitting in the front row of her classroom. She looked at the papers she was grading and decided to take them home. A last careful tug to a locked drawer and she left. But there was that unmistakable feeling of being prey. Lila slithered forward to the desk.

Here. Yes, here.

Oh, the files locked in the back of the drawer! Revealing, so revealing. It was evident the Teacher was soon to stalk her own prey, but Lila would get there first. A noise outside. She absorbed the files and melted into the background.

Through the halls, up the stairs, through more halls. Into the principal's office to smell pure fear. Silence. But faintly, so far away... Back to the halls, quietly quietly. Down the stairs and halls again to the first room. Scraping, scratching, metal on metal. Two teachers at the first Teacher's desk forcing the drawer open.